Kids Will Be Kids
by Kyrandis
Summary: They were probably setting his room up with booby traps even as he stood here in the kitchen. Roy wondered, for the umpteenth time, why, oh why, did he put up with these insufferable brats? Brotherly Roy, Wally, and Robin.


**A/N: YJ anon meme fill. This is slightly revised from the version posted on livejournal.  
****The original prompt: I want pre-YJ Kid Flash and Robin friendship shenanigans. Seriously, this anon could use some smiles. Anything goes as long as it's happy-making. Bonus if Speedy makes an appearance.**

**Um. It's slightly AU (probably) because I know jack about DC or YJ canon past. Also, apologies for OOCness.**

**Fanfiction, why won't you let me choose three characters? D:  
**

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**Kids (Will Be Kids)**

Roy fully understood the saying 'be careful what you wish for' for the first time when he wished that something would come along to distract him from homework and, not even five full minutes later, Double Trouble seemed to materialize in his room.

They seemingly appeared out of nowhere, standing beside his desk chair, and Roy blinked confusedly at them. "Wally? Robin?"

Without responding, they both began tugging at his arm, saying, "Speedy, come play with us!"

Roy looked between their two faces—large, bright green eyes and a huge grin on one; the other with a pair of sunglasses obscuring his eyes but a twin grin on his face.

"Oh, no," said Roy, turning his chair so that he could face the boys. "No way. I know what you two consider 'playing.'" He reclined in his chair and indicated the pile of homework on his desk. "I have work to do. Run off and bother somebody else."

Wally wrinkled his nose. "Who else will _let_ us bother them?" he demanded. "You're the only one who will play with us!"

Just what was the kid trying to imply just then? Attempting to change the subject, if only momentarily, Roy asked, "How did you guys even _get_ in here?"

Robin quirked an eyebrow at him and held up his grappling hook. Roy glanced at the open window.

"...Right."

"So, are you gonna play with us?" Robin asked.

Roy spun his chair to face his desk again. "I said, I have homework."

"Homework is _boring_," proclaimed Wally. "Who needs it?"

Roy scowled at him. "Maybe you'll start to appreciate school more when you reach my age." Then again, a lot of sixteen-year-olds didn't fully appreciate their education. Best to change the subject before he was called out on it.

It occurred to Roy that Robin and Wally probably wouldn't be removing themselves from his room anytime soon, unless he went with them, and he wondered why kids had to be so annoyingly persistent. "...What did you want to do?" he asked grudgingly, relenting.

"TP my neighbor's house!" Wally exclaimed while Robin suggested enthusiastically, "Let out a cat in the dog park!"

Roy groaned. "See? I knew it would be something like this. No."

"But we're _bored_," the duo chorused.

"Just because you're bored doesn't mean you should do destructive things," Roy said firmly. "You should let out your energy elsewhere."

"You're no fun," said Wally, puffing up his cheeks childishly. "Just 'cause you're a _few_ years older, you think you're _sooo_ mature..."

"Maybe that's because I am mature?" Roy suggested lightly. "More so than you, at least," he added pointedly as he reached out and put his hands on their heads, ruffling their hair briefly. When he leaned back again, Wally pouted and adjusted the goggles that were pushing his bangs back on his head. "Now, go away and leave me alone."

"But what can we do?" complained Robin. "If we can't pull pranks, there's _nothing_ to do."

"That's not true," replied Roy, rolling his eyes.

"Well, then, what _can _we do?" challenged Wally, echoing his friend's question.

"You can..." Roy cast his mind out for ideas. "Go play at the park—_not _the dog park. The regular kid's park. Play by yourselves and don't drag others into your boredom."

Wally and Robin exchanged an uncertain glance. An unspoken message seemed to pass between them, then they turned back to Roy.

"Okay," said Robin, "but..."

"...only if you come with us!" finished Wally.

Roy's eye twitched. "What did I just..." He sighed. "Never mind. Fine. Let's go."

"YES!"

Robin and Wally gave each other a high-five, then Robin trotted over to the window and leaned out of it. Roy didn't realize what he was doing until the two younger boys had climbed onto the windowsill and Wally had wrapped his arms around his friend.

Standing up from his chair, Roy started to call out to them, "Robin, Wally, don't—!"

"COWABUNGA!" they shouted simultaneously as they launched out of the window, swinging down on Robin's grappling hook.

Shaking his head exasperatedly, Roy grabbed his notebook before swiftly going downstairs and exited the house like a normal person—through the front door.

As expected, Robin and Wally were waiting impatiently for him on the porch.

"Let's go, let's go!" they cried, grabbing his arm and pulling him along.

"And just _who_ signed me up to be your babysitter?" he grumbled. He received no response, to the surprise of none.

The park was surprisingly empty despite being late morning on a Sunday, but that was for the best, Roy supposed. Since no one else was around, that meant no innocent bystanders would end up being the unfortunate recipient of Double Trouble's pranks. But that also meant that Roy would be their only target.

Luckily, Robin and Wally seemed to have actually listened to Roy for once, as they seemed to take his order not to do potentially destructive things to others to heart; they were running around and playing by themselves rather than pestering Roy more, who meanwhile had made his way over to one of the picnic tables. He opened his notebook, watching Robin and Wally out of the corner of his eye as he worked.

The boys seemed to have some fascination with Robin's grappling hook, Roy observed idly. They swung from tree to tree like monkeys and shot up to the top of the swing set with it. After they finally seemed to tire and grow bored of it, Robin clambered onto Wally's back, and Wally sped around, carrying him, until he tripped and they both fell in the sandbox, laughing gleefully all the while. They played in the sand for a few minutes, then went on the slides, the monkey bars (aptly named, in Roy's opinion), and the spinning wheel.

It was late afternoon when the boys had finally exhausted themselves of things to do in the park, and they returned to Roy at the picnic table.

"Finally expended all your energy?" Roy asked as he stood and stretched.

Robin smiled a little, craning his head up to look at him, but instead of answering, he asked, "Can we hang out at your place?"

"Shouldn't you kids be going home?" griped Roy.

"But there's nothing going on at home!" both boys insisted in unison.

"Batman and the Flash are away," Robin added. "Green Arrow probably is, too, right? You know how it is." He and Wally looked down at the ground, scuffing their feet in the dirt. "We're just..."

_Lonely._

Unable to help feeling just a little sorry for the boys (they were only eleven and thirteen years old, after all), Roy said, "Alright...you two...can come over, I guess."

Both boys brightened up immediately—just a little too quickly, in Roy's opinion. They'd probably _rehearsed _the whole thing, Roy realized, and he wondered if he'd been tricked with a pity play. Either way, it was too late to back out now.

"Only for little while," he amended hastily. "Understand?"

They nodded earnestly, and Roy soon found himself walking down the sidewalk behind Robin and Wally, who were skipping along in front of him.

A light, jangly tune filled the air, and Roy could already feel his pocket getting lighter as both Robin and Wally cheered, "Ice cream truck!"

Wally sped off at super-speed, but Robin paused, turned to Roy, and asked, sweetly, "Please?"

And how could Roy say no to that? He bought them the ice creams.

Wally finished his treat in a matter of seconds, but Robin took more time with his, finishing it and licking ice cream off his fingers as they arrived back at Roy's house.

"You're going in the _normal_ way this time," Roy told them, leading them through the door.

They agreed easily enough and hopped up the stairs back to Roy's room. When they entered, Roy sank down wearily on his desk chair while Robin and Wally made a beeline for the bed and began bouncing up and down on it.

"Hey," said Roy, "don't jump on the—"

But they were already down and poking around the rest of the room.

"Seriously, guys?" groaned Roy. "Aren't you tired at all?"

"Not really," said Robin, lying on the bed stomach-down, hanging upside-down and peering beneath the bed.

"Your room is pretty messy," Wally, who was crouched on the ground and also peeking under the bed, commented.

"No, really?" Roy said sarcastically, glancing around the bedroom.

Clothes strewn all around the room, despite the hamper by the door; books lying everywhere; papers scattered on the floor by his desk; CD cases spread out on the ground in a way that looked like they had once been neatly stacked, but then knocked over. Yep...home, sweet home.

"Mmhm. You should clean it up sometime," said Wally rather unconcernedly, his voice becoming muffled as he crawled under the bed.

Roy watched him. "Haven't got the time."

Wally emerged into view again, clutching a quiver of Roy's training arrows in his arms. "Look, I'm Speedy!" he shouted, pulling an arrow from the quiver and waving it around.

"No, I am!" declared Robin as he slid down from the bed and snatched the quiver away from Wally.

"Give that back," said Roy. "Don't play with those." Being training arrows, they weren't exactly dangerous, but he didn't want to take any chances. Besides, he needed them. "Guys—"

Robin giggled and darted around the room, and Wally gave chase while Roy tried in vain to stop them.

Roy really should have seen it coming, but he was used to navigating the natural disaster that was his room. Robin, however, was not. The boy let out a cry as he tripped on something or other that was on the ground where it didn't belong. The quiver turned in his hands, landing at an awkward angle, and—_SNAP!_

The previously lively room sharply fell into dead silence.

They boys stared mutely at the scattered, broken arrows. Wally's eyes were wide with shock and guilt, and even though he couldn't see Robin's eyes, Roy was sure they reflected the same emotions.

The silence stretched on uncomfortably, until finally Robin whispered, "Sorry."

And as soon as the word left his mouth, the two younger boys were falling over themselves as apology after apology tumbled out of their mouths in a hurried rush, and only quieting when Roy put a hand on their shoulders.

"That's enough," he told them.

Wally and Robin glanced uncertainly at each other.

"I'm going to do my homework now," Roy continued. "Maybe it's time you two went home." Without waiting for an answer, he turned and went back to his desk.

It was very quiet after that. Roy assumed that the boys had slipped out silently. But then a furtive whispering filled the room—they hadn't left yet after all. Roy tried to ignore them and concentrated on his work.

A few minutes later, he felt a tapping on his arm and turned to see Wally and Robin standing by his chair, awkwardly not meeting his gaze.

"What is it?" he asked, not too kindly.

Robin flinched, but then he straightened up and boldly said, "We were wondering if we could stay over for dinner."

"...I don't have anything prepared," Roy said slowly.

Robin shifted his feet. "Well, couldn't you make something?" he asked, more meekly now.

He sighed. "What did you have in mind?"

Wally piped up, "Anything that'll take at least ten minutes to prepare. Preferably at least fift—ow!" He broke off as Robin elbowed him sharply.

"Whatever you want is fine," the younger boy said.

Roy frowned. They were definitely back to their old antics again. But he complied anyways with another sigh. "Alright. You two stay in here. And _behave_," he added sternly.

Both boys nodded solemnly in response.

Roy left the room, closing the door behind him, and descended the stairs.

As he turned on the stove, he heard loud noises and muffled talking from upstairs.

Up to no good, back to their old tricks again. He really shouldn't be surprised. Kids didn't take long to recover from feelings of guilt, apparently. Heck, they were probably setting his room up with booby traps even as he stood here in the kitchen. Roy wondered, for the umpteenth time, why, oh _why_, did he put up with these insufferable brats?

Then he went upstairs with two plates of spaghetti in his hands, and he saw his clean room. He saw his books put away and ordered (for the first time since he got them) on the bookshelf. He saw his dirty clothes piled in the hamper where they belonged instead of strewn all over the floor and bed. He saw, on his desk, his training arrows, clumsily fixed with Scotch tape.

And he saw the two boys asleep on his bed—Wally, sprawled out with one arm folded over his stomach and the other flopped out to his side; Robin, lying curled up with his back to Wally and using the other boy's arm as his pillow.

And he remembered just why he put up with such brats.


End file.
